After the Confession
by enola123
Summary: After Doris's confession in 3 x 05, Miss Mardle reflects on her choices, guilt, and Mr. Grove


Josie Mardle quickly climbed up the steps of her house, rang the doorbell, nodded her thanks to the housemaid, and made a beeline to the sideboard.

Once there, she grabbed a decanter of brandy. Opening it with strictly more force than necessary, she poured it into a wineglass that was conveniently placed near it.

As she watched the brown liquid slosh into the glass below, Doris's tear- filled voice echoed in her ears.

" _Earnest is Billy's baby."_

The rest of the visit, following the confession, had been filled with Doris's broken sobs and Josie's quiet reassurances that everything would be alright.

Problem was, she wasn't sure it would be.

It was an impossible situation. What could she do? The question had throbbed in her mind, on and off, as she walked back from Doris's until her head had ached with misery.

Swallowing involuntarily, Josie put the stopper back on and set the decanter aside. Then, carrying her wineglass, she sat down heavily on the nearest armchair and took a long sip.

As she relished the warm spiced apple flavor of the brandy, her headache subsided and she considered her options. Should she advise Doris to tell Mr. Grove the truth? Perhaps he would be forgiving.

She rejected the idea almost immediately. No, she knew Mr. Grove (far better than she should) and although he always came to the right conclusion in the end, the path he took to get there was littered with emotional upheaval. Even if he ultimately forgave Doris, Josie doubted that Doris would have the strength to withstand his censure in the meantime (not that Josie would blame her, really- she hadn't been able to stand up for herself when he'd attacked her relationship with Florian).

It was funny, she mused, that even after all he had put her through, she could not fully hate him.

When they had first met, Josie had been working and living in a new department store. Her father had died the previous year and her brother, Peregrine, had moved to Geneva to learn his trade.

In the months following Peregrine's departure, Josie had split her time between the department store and visiting her mother on her days off. She remembered how they would spend those golden, precious hours together chatting and catching up.

Then, her mother took ill. In a matter of months, her strong, cheerful mother was reduced to a sickly, bedridden skeleton.

There had been no one to comfort her during those lonely hours when she had sat by her mother's bedside, waiting for the inevitable. Even her brother's letters, as supportive as he had been, did not help. They were just another reminder that she was on her own.

Pulling her coat closer to her body, Josie walked over to the window and shuddered as the iciness of the memories sank into her bones and settled there. It was the same chill that had settled inside her all those years ago, until Roger had entered her life. He had been the only one, _the only one_ , of her coworkers who had noticed something was off with her. To this day, she had no idea what had prompted him to ask her what was wrong. Was it the dark circles under her eyes? A hitch in her voice when she spoke of her mother? Regardless, they had both bonded over the similarity of their situations (his wife had taken ill around the same time) and the iciness had been replaced with a warm, giddy feeling.

He had listened sympathetically to her troubles, made her laugh on her bad days, and on one memorable occasion, had daisies (Anabel Mardle's favorite flowers) delivered to their house when her mother was having a particularly bad week.

Josie had seen the good in Roger and despite the abysmal way he had treated her, she still believed that he could, one day be a good man.

Shaking her head, Josie pushed away her thoughts. Reminiscing about Rog- _Mr. Grove_ , would not help Doris. She could not let her down, not like how she had let down Sarah Bunt-

"Miss Mardle?"

Emily's voice cut through her thoughts. Startled, Josie looked up. Emily's hands were folded in front of her simple black dress as she looked at her employer curiously.

Josie stared back, taking in her housemaid's calm, clear face and not-a-hair- out-of-place bun. She was the picture of serenity. Emily's life, Josie mused, was simple. Before going to bed at night, her worries would mostly center around inconsequential matters, like buying more hairpins or whether or not to wear a coat tomorrow, because the days were getting colder. She would not have to worry about solving a friend's sticky situation, or the consequences thereof. And although on most days Josie was knew that she was fortunate to lead the life she led, in that moment she would have traded her life for Emily's in a heartbeat.

"Miss Mardle? Are you going out?" Emily asked again, looking discomfited by Josie's frank stare.

 _No_ , Josie thought, _why would she think I was-oh_. She had been in such a state when she came in, that she hadn't bothered to take off her hat or coat. She'd also been staring at Emily, Josie realized.

Cheeks prickling with heat, she answered, "No, I'm not. Here, take my coat and hat and hang them in the closet, will you?"

Obediently, Emily took her things and asked, "Would you like a cup of tea? You look rather pale."

 _Oh, she is so thoughtful and kind,_ Josie thought gratefully. Feeling guilty for her earlier envious musings,Josie told her, "No, thank you. In fact, why don't you take the day off tomorrow? You've been working rather hard, lately."

A look of surprise flitted over Emily's face, before her face broke out into an uncharacteristic grin, "Really? I mean, thank you, ma'am!"

Then, she turned on her heel and scurried out of the room, as if afraid that Josie would change her mind. Smiling at her haste, Josie left her wineglass on the sideboard and exited the living room. Going up to her bedroom, she closed the door and sat on her bed with a sigh.

 _Sarah Bunting_

Her friend's name reached out from the depths of her consciousness and seized her mind with an iron grip. As always, Josie had to fight down the swirling mass of guilt in her stomach when she thought of Sarah. Not that she didn't have any good memories of her friend, but she had never quite got over how she had died.

In the weeks following her death, the image of Sarah's mangled body on the tracks had flashed through her mind. Over and over again, the same question ran through her mind, leaving a worn path. If she had been less self-absorbed, would Sarah still be alive today?

Well, the past was the past, she told herself firmly. She couldn't do anything to change it now, but she would not make the same mistake with Doris.

As these thoughts drifted in and out of her mind, her fingers pushed and pulled at the delicate cloth of the bedspread. It did nothing to relieve her anxiety. As she gazed at the wall opposite of her, Doris's pink-rimmed, pleading eyes kept bobbing up and down in her mind, like an apple in a barrel of water.

How difficult it must it have been, for her friend, to look at Earnest's face every day, while her shameful secret burned in her heart? Yet she had still been able to fulfill her duties as a wife and mother. Josie felt an almost maternal pride swell up within her as she thought of how strong Doris had been.

It also meant a great deal to her that Doris had chosen her to confide in. She hadn't even told her own mother or Kitty. They hadn't even become friends, true friends, until this past summer. Her mouth quirked to the side when she remembered scolding Doris nearly a decade ago, for eating sweets. They had certainly come a long way, she reflected.

Pushing herself off the bed, Josie stood up to switch on the light. During her ruminations, the sun had set and her room had become shrouded by a dark-blue gloom. As she reached for the switch, she spotted two figures standing on the street below. Partially obscured by the dark, Josie had to curl her neck down and squint to see them properly.

Standing like this, she could see that the two figures were a man and a woman. They were standing very close to together and seemed to be having a serious discussion, judging from their solemn countenances. While she felt a bit guilty for watching them, she could not help thinking about all the times she and Mr. Grove met covertly like the couple below, in the middle of the night. It had been their time to flirt, fight, and discuss without anyone interfering…

The memory sparked an idea in within the depths of her mind, like a matchstick. Why couldn't Billy and Doris do the same?

All they had to do was arrange a clandestine meeting with Billy – it didn't matter where, as long as it was far away from the Grove household- and while someone else watched the other children, Doris could bring Billy to meet his father.

Hopefully, once they gave Billy what he wanted, he would be amenable to their request-namely, to keep away from the household and Doris.

It was an imperfect plan; it still required lying to Mr. Grove and Billy might not adhere to their demand . Yet, at the same time, it was the only solution that would keep all parties happy. Although she knew that the time would come when she would feel remorseful about lying to Mr. Grove, Doris's needs came first.

It would work.

It _had_ to.


End file.
